


Between the click of the light and the start of the dream.

by barthelme



Series: Where we know. [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Consensual Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Sleep Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 17:22:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15778635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barthelme/pseuds/barthelme
Summary: So, yeah, Armie has never really said said no.





	Between the click of the light and the start of the dream.

Armie hasn't had any coffee yet, so all of this is a bit _much_. 

Timmy shrugs and takes a large mouthful of cereal. Chews until he is able to say, "Well, that answers that."

Armie pours milk into his own bowl of cereal. Looks over at the coffee pot, which is still only half brewed, then back at Timmy who has started skimming through his phone. Nodding to some imaginary beat. "I didn't say no," Armie says. Decides, fuck it, he's getting coffee anyways. Makes the short trip to the kitchen, pours himself a cup before settling back down to breakfast. 

Timmy picks up his phone and Armie watches his eyes read something. Absently, Timmy says, "Yeah, you just stared at me like I was a fucking pervert, so your answer is no. Not a big deal, move on." He looks up from his phone. "Have you ever heard of the Mandela Effect?"

Armie takes a sip of coffee and nods. "Berenstain, Berenstein." Sets his cup down. "I didn't say no. I just need to think about it." 

Timmy smirks. "I bet you do."  
_____

Honestly, Armie doesn't think he's ever hesitated to say, "Yes," for Timmy, even during the early stages of their relationship. They didn't have sex after the first date--

(It was a not-so-blind date. Nick knew Timmy from the high school [Nick teaches Economics. Timmy? English. And a semester of French once a year.] and it came out during lunch one day that Timmy had broken up with his boyfriend "months ago" and was on Grindr and it was a "fucking nightmare."

"Just look at him, okay?" Nick insisted. Armie kept batting Nick's phone out of his face until Nick finally managed to tackle him to the ground and force him to look. "Say he's cute," Nick insisted, lightly slapping Armie's face. "Say it, say it, say it and let me set you up. He's so much fun," he added, knowing Armie was not just looking for someone to fuck.

He wasn't cute, Armie thought. He was gorgeous, and this was just a staff picture. He tried to be nonchalant. Sighed, "One date, okay? But, don't be weird about it."

When Nick showed Timmy a picture of Armie, Timmy ripped Nick's phone away and stared, slack jawed, for ten seconds before asking, "Is this a prank? Like, I'm going to agree to go out with this guy, I show up, and fucking Ansel is there?" 

He smirked at Ansel, who had just walked into the lounge. "What the fuck, man?" 

Nick assured him Armie was real. Showed him his Facebook, his Instagram, even his LinkedIn. "I'm like, sweating," Timmy joked. "And you're friends with this guy? How the fuck did that happen? How is he single? Why does he want to go out with me? There's a catch, isn't there? He needs a fucking wedding date, doesn't he? You know I hate weddings."

They met for coffee, which turned into coffee and a movie, which turned into coffee and a movie and then wasting time until dinner.)

\--because Armie declined Timmy's invitation up to his apartment. Noted the crushed look in Timmy's eyes, even though he was still smiling. Added, "Not because I don't want to. I really want to, but I don't want you to think that's what tonight was about."

Timmy didn't think that, and he said so, but Armie just clicked his tongue, shook his head. "How about you invite me up after tomorrow's date?" 

"Tomorrow's date?" Timmy asked, still trying to get over the earlier rejection. He hadn't asked Armie out on a-- "Oh! Right. To the, ugh," Timmy tucked his tongue into his cheek. Rolled his eyes as he tried to grasp an idea. "Bowling alley."

Armie laughed and shrugged. "Yeah, to the bowling alley," he agreed. Leaned down and kissed Timmy's cheek. 

They never made it to the bowling alley for their second date. When Armie knocked on the door, Timmy answered. Asked, "Can we just pretend we each bowled around a one-twenty, you won two of the three games, and I sulked?" 

Armie has never bowled over a 113, but he agreed. Pushed Timmy into the apartment and later, in the bedroom, when Timmy asked, "Pull my hair?" like a secret question, Armie had a fistful of his curls before he was able to get "Yes," past his lips. 

So, yeah, Armie has never really said said no.  
____

Timmy hasn't said no, but he has said, "Okay, I'll need to think about that one." 

It was never brought up again and Armie doesn't really know if it's something he wants to bring up. If it's something he even wants Timmy to finish thinking about or if it was just something dumb he said when he was drunk. 

Even though he'd only had two beers. 

Yeah, he's okay with it never being brought up, ever again. 

(Unless the answer is "Yeah, we can try that.")  
_____

Timmy is a heavy sleeper. Once his head is on a pillow and his eyes close, it's lights out. Armie comes home from a late meeting to find Timmy asleep on the couch. Sprawled on his belly, face turned to the side. One long arm dangling off the edge. It's not even dinnertime and there is an open novel next to his fingertips. _Heart of Darkness._ Armie knows it's not Timmy's favorite (not even on the shortlist, not even on any list), but it's one of the required readings for his kids.

There's a stack of papers on the end table. A red pen on top of the stack. 

"Timmy," Armie says and pushes his shoulder. "Should I start lasagna?"

Timmy doesn't budge, so Armie pushes him again. This time, Timmy curls into a ball. Tucks his arms in to his chest. "Resting my eyes," Timmy murmurs. Licks his lips and rubs his cheek briefly against the couch fabric. 

Armie sighs. "You're not going to be able to sleep tonight," he says even though it's a lie.

He starts to boil water, every now and then dropping a pot, slamming a cupboard, coughing. Timmy's eyes don't open. The water is just starting to roll; Armie dumps in a box of noodles. Breaks down the box and tosses it into the recycling before walking back to the couch. Kneeling in front of Timmy's face. Kissing his forehead. "We could fuck while the noodles cook."

Nothing. 

"I'll ride you."

Nada. 

"And that means it's easier for me to choke you," he adds, a slight sing-song tone resonating through the apartment.

Hmph. 

Armie presses his thumb against Timmy's lower lip. Pushes it down and is amazed how easily Timmy's mouth opens. 

He lets go and rolls his eyes. "So annoying," he says and walks back to the kitchen. Grabs a knife and an onion. "You're so annoying."

From the couch, Timmy smirks. Licks his lips. Rests his eyes a bit longer.  
_____

They're walking to meet up with Nick and Liz for drinks. Timmy is texting, both hands and eyes busy. Armie's hand is taking up most of the real estate on the small of Timmy's back as he guides him forward. Around slow walkers, fire hydrants, a pizza spill. "Okay, so, hypothetically, we do this."

Timmy grunts and it sounds like, "All ears."

"Will you or will you not be, you know, actually." Armie blushes. 

Timmy laughs and Armie can tell it's not for him. Looks over at Timmy types, _hahahahhaaaaa_ , because Timmy doesn't _lol_. 

"Because I'd feel a bit weird if you really were."

"I wouldn't," Timmy says. Shrugs and slips his phone in his back pocket; reaches behind his back to grab Armie's hand. Lace their fingers together. "But if you don't want me to be, I don't have to be."

"Right."

They're in front of the bar. Timmy pulls him back, out of the foot traffic, looks up at him. Leans in and kisses just below his ear. They can both feel eyes on them; they're used to it at this point. They know their height, Armie's looks, Timmy's smile. They pull the focus of a room, a sidewalk, a space. "Armie, you are pretty clearly not interested, so don't worry. We'll put it on our very short list of 'hard nos' okay?"

He pulls Armie inside; starts searching for Liz and Nick. They find them in a corner, already working on second drinks.  
_____

Timmy and Armie's List of Hard Nos:  
1\. group sex of any type, even if we're drunk and it sounds like a good idea  
2\. daddy kink  
3\. humiliation  
4\. non-sex toy insertions  
5\. blood play  
6\. probably that thing armie mentioned that one time that they try not to talk about because it got weird  
_____

Timmy is pushing the cart. "Do we have hamburger buns?" he asks. 

"I think we're down to like, three. So," Armie grabs a bag. Tosses it in the cart. "Cereal?"

"Lucky Charms," Timmy says while he grabs some English muffins. Armie grabs the Lucky Charms for Timmy, Captain Crunch for himself. 

In the freezer aisle, Timmy is debating if he wants enchiladas or a taco bowl for lunch on Monday. Armie grabs a family size frozen lasagna. "So, I think I'd be okay with it if you weren't actually," he looks around, checking that the aisle is empty. "You know." There's an elderly woman coming around the corner. 

"Asleep?" Timmy says. "I mean, I told you it doesn't matter. But," Armie notes that Timmy doesn't bother checking if the aisle is empty. "The idea of waking up with your cock in me? Or, better yet, with you coming in me? That's pretty hot." He decides on the taco bowl and throws it into the cart. Leans against the cart and starts pushing again. "But, no is no, Armie. It's not a big deal, seriously. Our sex life is not lacking."

Armie blushes; rushes past the elderly woman.  
_____

"But look at her face," Armie says, scrolling through pictures on his phone. "And her name is JuJu Bean." He's using the same voice he talks to babies with.

JuJu Bean is a mutt and she likes pet-free households, belly scratches, and going for runs. 

"Not until we get a house," Timmy says as he scrolls through Netflix. "We buy a house, we get a dog. That's the rule." 

Armie sighs. Scrolls to the next dog.  
_____

Armie: _i don't like the idea of you not being able to say no_  
Timmy: _just stop okay? we are moving on from this._

Armie looks out his office window. Taps the corner of his phone against his chin. He has e-mails to respond to, but instead--

Armie: _like are you completely sure_  
Timmy: _im in the middle of study hall stop making me look like a bad example armie_  
Timmy: _yeah i'm fucking sure but you are not so please can we drop it i don't bring up YOU KNOW WHAT all the fucking time_

Armie rolls his eyes and tosses his phone on his desk.  
_____

Timmy falls asleep on Armie's chest. They're on the couch, trying to catch up on _Shameless_ and, like usual they slowly sink into a prone position together. Timmy on top, head on Armie's chest. Hand under his chin, hair constantly getting in Armie's face. Armie has an arm loosely draped over Timmy. 

("You're going to fall asleep," Armie warned. "And then I have to fill you in on the episode and I always forget something and you end up confused."

Timmy shook his head. Kissed Armie's sternum. "Nope, I'm wide awake."

He was asleep within minutes.)

Armie slides his hand down Timmy's back. Fingers the waistband of his sweatpants, all the while keeping his eyes on the television. "Timmy, you're missing the entire episode," Armie whispers. 

Nothing. 

He slips his hand under the elastic. Cups Timmy's ass. Squeezes. "You're going to be completely lost tomorrow night. I barely even remember what's going on with Debbie."

Nada. 

Pushes a finger lower, presses his middle finger against Timmy's hole. He's pliant, loose, and Armie debates just pressing his finger in. Getting him ready while he sleeps. He adds a bit more pressure and Timmy doesn't stir.

Hmph. 

"So fucking annoying," Armie groans. Pulls his hand back and cups Timmy's ass through his sweatpants. 

Timmy bites the inside of his cheek and rolls his eyes at the television. Timmy really hates Frank.  
_____

Armie: _meeting is going long. probably going to miss dinner. love you._  
Timmy: _okay. muah <3_  
_____

Armie turns on the kitchen light. Sets his briefcase on the counter; picks up the note. _leftover pizza in fridge. went to bed early. love you <3_

His boss ordered Chinese for the office, so Armie loosens his tie on the way to the bedroom. Pulls it over his head, kicks off his shoes near the closet. Looks over at the bed, where Timmy is asleep. Belly down, face sideways against a pillow. One arm tucked under the pillow, the other tucked under his cheek. Sheet pulled up to cover his ass, but not his back dimples. 

Armie grins and strips down to his boxers. 

"Timmy," he whispers. Stands at the edge of the bed and trails a finger down Timmy's back until he reaches the sheet. Lifts it. 

Armie wears his headphones on his bus ride to work. He listens to books on tape and ignores the city, (buildings, people, dogs, everything) because he's sick of looking at it. Tired of the rush, the bustle, the rats. 

He never gets sick of looking at Timmy's ass, even though he's seen it more than his own office building, probably. Armie pushes the sheet down to Timmy's thighs. Presses a hand to the back of his left thigh. Enjoys the way his hand makes Timmy's thigh look _that much_ smaller. 

(One of Armie's favorite things about Timmy, physically, is that he is taller than a lot of people. He hunches over to talk to people and is a presence on his own. But when he's next to Armie, he seems to fold in on himself. In on Armie.)

Armie's eyes scan Timmy's face. He pushes Timmy's curls out of his face, tucks them behind his ears. Drags his thumb along his jaw. To his lower lip. 

Pulls down, and just like that, Timmy's mouth is open. His tongue limp against his lower lip. 

"Fuck," Armie breathes. He thinks back to outside the bar. _I wouldn't, I wouldn't, I wouldn't._

He wouldn't. Timmy wouldn't. 

Armie pushes his boxers down and wraps a hand around his cock. For the slightest of moments, he feels bad about being half hard. Then he moves up to Timmy's head, presses the head of his cock against Timmy's tongue. 

_I wouldn't._

He pushes in, shallow. The head of his cock is barely in Timmy's mouth and it already feels like too much. He pulls back and is ready to just pull his boxers up and go to bed when Timmy makes a noise. It's so soft that Armie barely hears it. More like a breath. An exhale. A pleased sigh. 

So, Armie presses in again, and again. Timmy's mouth is a bit dry, so Armie pulls out. Licks his lips and scratches the bridge of his nose. "Fuck," he whispers. Spits in his palm and rubs his saliva along the head of his cock before pushing back into Timmy's mouth. Fucking him with the smallest of thrusts, watching as Timmy's limp upper lip has nothing to do but give and take with each movement. 

"Timmy, seriously," Armie gasps. Cups Timmy's ass. "If you're awake, just," he slips a finger between Timmy's cheeks and is met with the familiar feel of metal. "Fuck, Timmy. Fuck," he hisses. Pulls his cock out and strokes himself. 

He could stop.  
He could jerk off on Timmy's open mouth.  
He could fuck his mouth until he wakes up. 

Or. 

Armie presses his thumb against the butt plug. Cracks his neck and strokes himself. Presses the head of his cock against Timmy's cheek. "Timmy, please," Armie whispers. "This is--" Timmy moans in his sleep. Shifts. Spreads his legs, and the light from the kitchen reflects on the butt plug. 

_I wouldn't._

Armie slips his fingers under the blunt base of the plug. Slowly pulls, pulls, pulls, until it pops out and Timmy groans. "Are you awake?" Armie asks. Drops the plug onto the bed and pokes Timmy's cheek. 

Nothing. 

Slaps his cock against his lips. 

Nada. 

Presses two fingers into his soft, wet hole. 

Hmph. 

"Fuck, Timmy," Armie whispers. He can easily add a third finger. Realizes Timmy really got himself ready tonight. He slides his fingers in, out, in. 

Out.

"You're too much," Armie whispers. Carefully climbs on top of Timmy, keeping one foot firmly on the ground. The other leg thrown over Timmy's body, knee digging into the mattress for balance. He takes a deep breath before guiding his cock to Timmy's hole. Normally, this is his favorite part of fucking Timmy. When his cock is close, Timmy's hole just aches to be filled. He can literally see Timmy try to open for him, try to bring him closer.

But now? Armie presses against Timmy's hole and he's just a body. 

Armie pushes into Timmy, watches as his body opens for Armie. As he disappears further and further until he's all the way in. "Shit." 

Armie presses one hand into the pillow, the other against Timmy's hip. Fucks him slowly. Revels in the way Timmy's body takes him. The way his body rocks with each thrust. The way his mouth stays open, like he's ready to be used more, again, always. 

Armie tries to keep a slow pace. He doesn't want to wake Timmy up, even though part of him feels like he should. He thinks about the freezer section, about his blush, about Timmy's unabashed admittance of want, and then he can't hold back. He fucks into him hard, no longer watching himself disappear but staring at the bare wall in front of him for as long as he can keep his eyes open. 

When he comes, his leg shakes, his toes curl into the carpet. His knee jerks, digging into Timmy's side. "Holy shit," Armie hisses. He rests his head against Timmy's shoulder blade. Catches his breath. 

Reaches under Timmy, hoping to find a hard cock. Wanting to flip him over and wake him up with his mouth (and how the _hell is he not--_ )

His hand is met with a mess. A soft cock. A chuckle. "Armie, I came like ages ago," Timmy whispers.

Armie lets his body collapse against Timmy's back. Slaps his thigh. "You are so fucking annoying."

**Author's Note:**

> bartbarthelme on tumblr.


End file.
